


What Was Lost

by StarReads



Series: My Ferdibert Week 2020 Fics [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Comfort, Dreams, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Married Couple, Memories, Mystery, Recovered Memories, Temporary Amnesia, Unrealistic Depictions of Amnesia, memories as dreams, no beta we die like Glenn, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarReads/pseuds/StarReads
Summary: Ferdinand awoke to an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: My Ferdibert Week 2020 Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870597
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46
Collections: Ferdibert Week 2020





	What Was Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Today's prompts were Memory Loss and Dreams. I decided to try to emulate the mystery of a 'forbidden area' a la the secret Garden, and maybe a little Eros and Psyche vibes. I really mesh well with this concept and it might end up getting a redo as an actuak fic, though as of yet whether I'll write it is a mystery.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (nowtoactuallywritedaysix)

Ferdinand awoke to an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed. He sat up, looking down at his hands. There was...a ring on one of his fingers, and scars all down the back of it, but he could not recall how he had gotten either.

In fact, he could not recall much of anything. Not his name, not where he was, not who he was...it was like everything he had ever experienced had simply been wiped clean. He moved to leave the bed and found that his right leg was bandaged considerably. He could move it but it did not feel very good. 

Someone entered the room. Like everything else, she was completely unfamiliar to him. She was dressed plainly, carrying bandages, probably to redo the ones on his leg. She started when she noticed he was sat up in bed, staring directly at her. "Ah, my lord. You've awoken," she said.

Ferdinand blinked. He supposed that was his first clue, that he was something that would make him 'my lord'. The woman rushed over to him and checked his bandages. She seemed satisfied with their condition, as she tossed the roll of bandages onto the table next to the bed. "I am sure you must be very confused. You had a particularly nasty accident, and Doctor Cassagranda said it was likely you would suffer some memory loss," she said. 

So that was why his memory was so poor. "What kind of accident?" Ferdinand asked. The woman, who he realized must be a nurse, looked a little sheepish. "I am not allowed to actually tell you. He was worried that it might cause undue stress while you are still recovering. Anyhow, once you are walking again, feel free to do as you please but I have been instructed that you are to avoid the West Wing," the nurse said. 

Ferdinand found that odd, but he did not have the energy to dispute it. He crawled back into bed at the behest of the nurse, who insisted he was not supposed to be walking. The day was boring, just lying there until noon when the nurse brought him food and a book. Even then, there was something missing there. Someone should have been there with him. But who?

When he went to sleep that night, he was in a different place all together. The halls were grand and a little cold, but they felt familiar to him. Everything was fuzzy around the edges as if he wasn't quite apart of this world. He could barely feel his feet against the pavement below. It was like he was not even there at all. When he looked to the side, he noticed that he was walking next to someone.

His hair was dark and curly, his eyes a pale green and seeming to pierce straight through his very soul. Yet the soft smile on his face was probably the most comforting thing Ferdinand had ever seen. This man in front of him...was unrecognizable. Yet somehow he knew that he once knew this man. 

When he spoke it was smooth. Some parts of it were difficult to hear, like he was speaking through cloth. Yet holding his hand and just listening to this man speak brought Ferdinand so much joy. He had to have known him somehow, but he could not remember a single detail about him. By the time he finally woke up, leaving that dream behind, he was frustrated and confused. 

Several days passed before he was cleared to begin moving more. He took this time to explore every inch of the house he found himself in. It was fairly large, but not quite as big as the halls he found himself walking in his dreams. And everything about this place screamed that there should be people here, life amongst these empty rooms. But it was just him, and the nurse who he learned was named Amber. 

There were rooms that felt familiar to him. A study that held papers that were written in what he could only assume was his handwriting. The contents made little sense to him without their context, but it proved that he had lived there before. There was a room full of weapons as well. When he picked up a lance or an axe or a sword, he marveled at how he just...knew how to use it. Without even really trying.

He knew these halls and these rooms almost instinctually but he could never quite remember how he knew them. It irritated him. He knew regaining his memories would be a long process but he was starting to worry that they would never return. Would he have to start life all over again?

And every day when he stopped just before the West Wing, he wondered idly what was beyond that door. Sometimes he could hear movement beyond it if he pressed his ear to it. Someone else lived here, so the question was why they were avoiding him

He wanted to open the door, but for some reason he hesitated. He had no way of knowing how they would react and the way Amber had said he was not allowed to enter this part of the house seemed very...suspect. He knew there was some reason as to why he was all alone in this house. He just did not have a clue as to what that reason was. 

More dreams came with each night he spent in that room. They always took place in different locations. Sometimes it was a library not unlike the one from the real world, sometimes it was outdoors in a sunny field, sometimes by a lake at night. But always that same man was next to him, the only face he ever saw clearly. 

He picked up bits and pieces of what must have been his memories through these dreams. The man liked coffee, he found out, and he seemingly preferred tea. Sometimes they were on horses, which the man seemed to not like very much. They rarely fought, though that was likely because Ferdinand could not actually speak in these dreams. 

He noticed on night six, when the man removed his gloves, that he was also wearing a ring around his finger. It did not take Ferdinand long to realize that they had to be wedding rings. This mysterious man was his husband. That explained why seeing him made him so happy, but it was unhelpful considering he could not remember his name. 

Still, the dreams were the only concrete memories he had, and he clung to them. At some point he had started compiling a list of all the details from these dreams. It was a fairly sized list, even if not all the details were big. 

And his daily exploration afforded more details. He wrote a lot about finances and policies for some government, though his signature was too illegible for him to discern his own name. He found old drawings in a box depicting what he assumed to be a younger version of him along with a tall, white haired woman and the man from his dreams. No names were found among these drawings but at the very least it gave him another face to commit to memory. 

Eventually, he decided that he simply had to do something. His memories were not really returning, only bits and pieces. Fragments of faces and places that swirled around in his head and made it hard to focus on much else. He remembered no names, just the occasional bright smile. Sometimes he would walk past the room full of weapons and remember training with someone, using an axe and listening to them holler. Other times he was in a library and he would pass the person next to him a book, and she would take it with a smile and a polite thank you. She always carried with her a dagger he could not quite remember.

He always found himself back at the door to the West Wing every day. He had this creeping, strong feeling that if he could just see who was behind this door, he would start to regain some of what he had lost. It took him weeks to build up the courage, but eventually he steeled his nerves and slowly turned the knob. He was surprised when it clicked open with ease

The hallways in the West Wing were near identical to the rest of the house. They too felt quiet, as if the air here had not been disturbed for some time. Yet that feeling of familiarity seemed stronger here. The walls were not as decorated here, but they did feature paintings of people who felt familiar. He had to have been here before, though that was perhaps more than obvious enough when he had toured the rest of the house.

Without realizing it, he walked through the halls with determination and stopped in front of an unassuming wooden door. Usually he did not bother to check every room in the house, as most of them were very similar, but this particular door called to him. He took a deep breath and opened the door without another moment's hesitation. 

Across the small study stood a familiar man. The same mop of black hair, the same sharp features...it was him. His breath caught in his throat. He had been expecting to find something, but somehow he had not expected this. Maybe because he had seen this man so much in his dreams, it was hard to imagine him anywhere else.

"...I know you." Ferdinand said gently from the doorway. His name was Hubert, he knew it as soon as he saw him, as if it had always been in the back of his mind, waiting. He knew his face. The only person who walked with him in his dreams.

Hubert turned his head to look at him. Something hid behind those brilliant eyes of his. Remorse? Guilt? Shock? Whatever it was, it left a bittersweet taste of Ferdinand's tongue. "Do you?" Hubert asked. His voice was laced with so many emotions it nearly felt unreal.

Ferdinand paused, voice caught in his throat as his dreams...no, memories flooded his senses. He did know this man. How could he not? "I do," he whispered gently, crossing the study to get closer to him.

"Ferdinand?" Hubert whispered back, almost too quietly to hear. The name was foreign to him until it hit the air, and then of course he knew that it was his. It had always been his. How could he have ever forgotten it?

"Hubert," he said, his voice suddenly returning to him at full strength. He had forgotten so much, he knew he still had so much more to remember. But he remembered this man, this house, this room. It was their own, was it not? Their home. 

He hugged Hubert, realizing only then how frail he was. A little boney, like he had not been eating very well. Ferdinand would have to change that, because of course he could not have his...husband. He could not have his husband starve to death. "Why did you not come to see me?" Ferdinand asked.

Hubert looked crest-fallen. "I am...I am sorry. I did not wish to cause you undue stress while you were still recovering and I also..nevermind. It is selfish, really," Hubert said. Ferdinand pouted, pulling away. "Selfish how?" he asked.

"I...did not want to see you like that. I thought that if I saw you without your memories, unable to recognize me, that I...that I would become...distraught. I apologize for that. I know it must have been harder for you," Hubert said.

"I am not mad, I promise. I understand why that would hurt you. I am just...glad to see you," Ferdinand whispered. Hubert relaxed again, relieved to see Ferdinand was just okay. "I just...I am sorry. I still do not remember very much. I do not know how long it will take me to remember everything."

"That is alright. I am just happy that you are still here," Hubert said. Ferdinand smiled a little, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt like he had just come home from a long journey. He still had a long way to go, but he would not have to go through this alone.

"I will always be here for you," he promised. And he kept that promise for the rest of his life.


End file.
